World Spins Madly On
by pfirsichkind
Summary: Romano wakes up after their first night together, remembering and being afraid of what will follow.


**World Spins Madly On**

He felt the sun tickle his nose and suppressed the urge to sneeze. He felt warm all around, and although he knew it was freaking hot outside - _Spanish sun and soil, damp fabric clawing at his skin _- he wriggled closer to the source of heat next to him, burying his nose into tanned skin, wrapping himself in the scent of the body accompanying him. _All musk and spicy and sweaty, the scent of sex promisingly lingering in the air, masking him gasp after a few touches. _

Strong arms unconsciously wrapped themselves around him and he used the chance of action to shield his own longing for contact. _Skin on skin, feeling the other right next to him, fingers clawing into flesh, leaving red long streams. _He let out a deep breath he didn't know he was holding and shifted, letting his hands lazily drop into thick, dark curls. _Pulling sweaty hair, searching for a hold to find a way back into gravity, desperately panting. _

Spain's eyes were closed, features soft and peaceful. He traced the small lines along the other's forehead, then returned to comb through untangled hair. _Sharp eyes piercing into his, sinking past his barricade of hissed curses, leaving him open, shattered to peaces, naked._

He propped himself up onto his elbows, shivering when Spain's arm sunk onto his waist and the fingertips tickled his skin. _Calloused hands grabbing his waist, almost hurting him, digging into his flesh, strong and determined, yet holding him like a porcelain figure as if scared to break him. _

His quivering hand found Spain's cheek, touching him with a gesture that seemed a mix of love and uneasiness, as if his hands would touch him for the first time, barely brushing the cheek, which was painted with a hint of rosé from the heat. _His hands gripping the others face, stroking over the cheeks with searching fingers, memorizing every wrinkle, running along with the sweat that dripped from the bangs of chocolate brown hair. _

Romano lowered himself down, feeling the hot breath on his skin when he stopped right in front of Spain's lips, shivering all over, timid for the the touch, yet desperately wanting to know if this all was real _was it real those burning heat in his stomach, those lips on his skin, those hands holding him, those eyes staring at him, as if they would know his entire being by heart, those whispered voice that made his eyes sting with unshed tears, tears that he forbid himself to let free, because this couldn't be true, this just couldn't be true-_

Green eyes met his, when Spain jolted awake by teardrops that splashed onto his skin. Romano looked at him, startled by the happenings, then touched his cheek, unbelievingly watching his moist fingers.

Seconds dropped by, then he made a sudden move to run, to hide, to flee out of this embarrassing moment _because he was not made to show emotions, he couldn't live without his barriers, protecting him, shielding him from what could hurt because he had been hurt too much too much-_

A hand caught his wrist.

Spain looked at him, smiling. It was that look he had on, when they sat on the terrace, sharing a bottle of wine, without saying a word, both just contently watching the setting sun piercing through the deep red of the liquid, creating beautiful spots of light, _the look that Romano had only seen directed on him, the look that made his heart flutter and clench at the same time, afraid of the things that hid behind._

Fingers touched his face, sweeping the tears away, then cradled his cheek gently. Sucking in a shuddered breath, Romano closed his eyes, unconsciously leaning into the touch.

"Spain, I-"

A timid brush of dry lips on his forehead made his stop and Spain pulled him down on top of his chest. Without another word, he rested this hands in the back of his neck, while the other begun to rub circles on his back.

Romano tried to breath as shallowly as possible while he listened to the constant _thud-thud thud-thud _of Spain's heart.

He didn't know, if this was the beginning or if it was the end. He didn't know, if he had to be happy or afraid. He didn't know, how much time he would need to get accustomed.

But he did know that Spain was all worth this.


End file.
